


Lost A Bet

by quicksparrows



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Crossdressing, Drunkenness, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-03 00:32:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2831597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quicksparrows/pseuds/quicksparrows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An extremely drunk Ezio Auditore plays cards with Rosa, who swiftly makes a fool of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost A Bet

_Venezia, 1485_

 

"How are you doing this?"

Once more, Ezio Auditore found himself watching Rosa place down a winning hand, only to look at his own and discover he hadn't even come close. He had been doing so well before, and then suddenly, she seemed to be taking every hand. He was positive she was cheating, but he hadn't a single clue how she was doing it.

"Trousers," she said, with a grin.

"You already have everything else, if I lose one more hand you're going to leave me naked," Ezio replied, standing up to unlace his pants and drop them, leaving him only in his underwear. "If I didn't know better, I'd think that was your intent."

Rosa leant her cheek on one hand, watching him wolfishly. 

"I'm just making up for losing the first few hands, bello," she informed him. Truth be told, she had lost her clothing already, too, in the early hands of the game –– she just happened to be replacing them with his as she won them.

He handed over his pants, and she pulled them on.

"Really," he said.

She dealt the cards again and he picked them up to look. It was hard to bite back a scowl; every single card was crap. Rosa was already laughing, and she took a deep swig of wine before slapping her own cards down. It wasn't even a contest. Ezio laughed, too, despite himself.

"Go on," she said. Under the table, she ran a bare foot against his leg, all the way up to his thigh.

"When you have my breeches, what will I do after, when you continue to beat me?" he asked, standing up again to undo his belt. This time he turned around, both so she wouldn't get an eyeful and so that she wouldn't see the flush creeping up his face. Fully naked save the hidden blade strapped to his forearm, he tossed his underwear at her. 

She caught it with a laugh.

"You'll start putting clothes on," she replied, as he sat down and turned around.

"That's threatening," he commented, pouring himself more wine.

"Your turn to deal," she said.

So he dealt the cards, this time expecting a crap hand. And a crap hand it was –– a bunch of twos and fours, which he placed down on the table with a defeated look. Card games weren't fun for gamblers who were fiercely competitive but poor in skill.

"Alright," he said, as she slapped down a bunch of face cards across from his. "What will I be wearing?"

"Wait there," she said, getting up and moving across the room to a chest of drawers. The room they were using for their drunken soiree of cards was a store room, kept by the thieves' guild with a stock of costumes and disguises and tools, whatever they could not easily find or retrieve later. He watched Rosa sort through the fabrics, mumbling about having seen it just the other day. Ezio helped himself to more wine, in the meantime.

Finally, she pulled a bundle of surprisingly rich fabrics from a trunk and held it up. It unfurled as she shook it out, and Ezio nearly did a spit take when he realized what it was.

"No," he said, "I'm not nearly drunk enough for that."

"You lost, you do as I say," she replied.

Rosa laughed and held it up against herself, running her hand over the bodice and skirts of a courtesan's dress. Ezio turned away, pouring himself a liberal amount of wine. She draped the dress over his head, and he pulled it off with a scowl.

"Don't be sour," she said, passing him a second bottle. "Just drink and get dressed, and then we can play another game."

So he did, after draining his glass once more. Within ten minutes and after a few more hands that won him matching sleevelets and a petticoat, Rosa was helping Ezio pull the dress over his head with some difficulty; his shoulders and torso were much broader than the dress, but they managed to get it on him with only one popped seam in the back. They didn't bother lacing it up -- it wouldn't have brought the edges even an inch closer. The sleevelets fit fine, though the petticoat threatened to fall off his narrow hips no matter how tight they tied it.

"It's not going to stay on," Rosa said, hands buried somewhere under all the ruffles, and dangerously close to his cock. "It wasn't made to go this tight."

"Your hands can stay there to hold it in place, then," he said, all the fabric of the skirts gathered in his arms so she could better see what she was doing. 

Rosa laughed, and gave him a squeeze before withdrawing her hands. Ezio almost yelped, and had to reach down to hold up the petticoat before it slid off his butt.

"It fell, come back," he implored her, but she rounded the table to sit down again.

"It is your turn to deal," she announced, taking a swig of her wine. They'd emptied two bottles now, and were starting on a third. Ezio fumbled back into his seat, the petticoat and skirts fluffing up around his waist, and he tried to smooth it down. Rosa laughed. "You're very handsome."

"No, right now I am beautiful," he corrected her.

"Should we be calling you Ezia tonight, then?"

He gestured at her, his shirt on her body and his doublet hanging from her shoulders. "Only if we call you Roso."

"That sounds fine to me," she replied, lifting her glass in the air. Ezio picked up his own glass and met hers half-way, clinking them together before they both drank deeply. They both laughed. He could feel the wine swamping his brain.

They played at cards for another half hour or so, poking fun at each other and Ezio losing more and more hands, until finally, Rosa placed down the last of the cards and pushed them towards him with a challenge.

"One more and then we go to bed," she announced.

"Va bene," Ezio replied, satisfied.

"But you have to wear the dress."

Ezio looked at her, mouth hanging open for a second. "No."

She nudged the cards towards him again. "Alright. Whoever wins the next hand decides."

He watched her for a moment, unsure, and then he slowly reached for the cards and picked them up. He peered at the numbers –– a four, a five and two sixes. Reasonable enough odds, he supposed, but he wasn't sure if it was worth the risk.

"Alright," he said, finally. "If you win, I wear the dress. If I win, I get my clothes back and you have to walk naked."

It was Rosa's turn to watch him, carefully, and she picked up her own cards to look. When the smile spread across her face, he knew he was screwed.

"Fuck," he swore, and Rosa laughed. She put down her hand, revealing an ace, a king and two sevens –– sevens being the most valuable cards in primero. Ezio just tossed his cards in favour of covering his face with his hands for a moment. Unless they bedded down in the store room, he was going to have to walk across the courtyard and through the adjacent building to get to Rosa's quarters. His smile was an embarrassed one.

"You're stupid when you drink," Rosa said, setting down her emptied glass and standing up. She moved to him and offered him an arm. "Come, madonna."

He got up, plucking up some bravado, one arm linked with hers and the other clutching the hem of the petticoat and trying to keep it from slipping off his hips. She opened the door for him, like a proper gentleman, and he stepped out into the courtyard. It was very late, and fortunately, most had gone to bed, but there were still a few stragglers about, sitting on the rooftops playing their own card games, or carousing in the courtyard talking.

Ezio had some faint, glimmering hope that they would be able to pass unnoticed, but that hope was dashed when Rosa announced, loudly, "Look who's terrible at cards!"

All eyes turned to them, and a good number of them burst out laughing after a moment, when they realized who it was standing next to Rosa under the lamplight. Ezio wanted to run for the door, but he was barefoot and he didn't want to break a toe on the cobblestones. Rosa laughed, too, and as he started to walk she reached to squeeze his butt through all the fabric.

"He's a pretty one, though, isn't he?" she laughed.

"Shut up," he replied, his otherwise confident expression betrayed by the bright red flush to his face. The catcalls from the other thieves were a little much.

Rosa just continued laughing, walking as slow as possible, until they reached the other door. Ezio opened it and slipped in hastily, and Rosa followed. He crushed her laughter with a kiss, pushing her up against the wall with his free hand, his other hand still trying to keep the skirts up.

"Come, to my room," she said, breaking it off. She took his hand, leading him up the stairs. The petticoat rustled noisily as they went, all the way up and then down the hall to her room. There, she unlocked the door and pushed him in.

Within moments, he was sitting on the edge of the bed with Rosa straddling his legs, groin bumped up against his. There was a great deal of fumbling involved as they tried to untangle the skirt's fabrics and bunch it between them, and she still had to undo her pants -- _his_ pants.

"My cock is lost in a sea of ruffles," he said, a sign that the wine had gotten a little too far into his system. Rosa laughed, pushing him down to lay back and her hand searching through those ruffles again. Her fingers wrapped around his shaft and Ezio groaned, despite himself, groping to grab her hips.

"Say you're pretty, Ezia," she teased, "and I'll fuck you."

"You're crazy," Ezio replied, "and I'm pretty. The prettiest in all of Venezia."

"That's right," she replied.

And she did.


End file.
